Jack's Demise
by Nagaku Tsuzuku Yami
Summary: Watch as the Man Jack dies and the Monster known as The Joker is born… Joker Origin *Temporarily Discontinued, sorry.*
1. Introduction

**Jack's Demise**

_**Summary: **Watch as the Man Jack dies and the Monster known as The Joker is born…_

**Introduction**

Nothing. He remembered nothing as he laid there, staring at a ceiling that was dirty white, bright lights could be ignored. They weren't important. What was important though was that he didn't remember what he was doing there, or why he hurt so badly. He tried opening his mouth but found that his cheeks hurt; he figured that it was the source of his pain.

There was little he could remember, but what he did remember at the moment was to do with pain and fragments of what he's assuming are memories. The drugs in his system were making it hard for him to really figure out what those memories meant though.

He wanted to know where he was! He wanted to know now! But he couldn't say anything, his vision was clouded and everything seemed distant. Everything but the pain. He couldn't get pass his pain.

_Who am I!_

His mind screamed, but that was all he could do was ask questions in his mind that won't be answered.

Someone must have noticed that he was awake, because a blurred silhouette stood over him. Wearing white. He heard words, but couldn't make any of it out. It sounded like they were whispering slurs rather then speaking clearly, and his inability to focus on what they're saying wasn't helping any either.

_Who are you! Where am I? What happened?_

He wanted to ask but couldn't make the words come out of his mouth. So they stayed in his mind, like everything else. The man kept talking and slowly words started to make sense.

"I'm…. Jones… are… feeling?" Was about as much as he could understand at the moment, he knew that there was more to it then that. Creasing his eyebrows in concentration he kept listening.

"… you… ember… happen…" It didn't make sense to him! He was starting to get frustrated at the whole thing and wanted nothing more then to close his eyes and keep the world away, just for a little while longer. Until he could decipher words and sentences better then he can now.

"… orry… you… Jeannie's dead… ack…" With that things started to come back, quickly and everything hurt his mind too much. The pain he felt there was far worse then the physical pain he was in now. All he understood was that his beloved Jeannie was murdered.

He remembered walking with her, laughing with her, kissing her, hugging her. Loving her.

He remembered being cornered, feeling angry, protective, he remembered her being afraid and he remembered her begging for them to stop. He didn't remember what the reason she was begging for, everything was blurred together and being blurred by the tears he felt running down the side of his face.

_No! _

His mind screamed, his mind denied. It couldn't be true! He didn't want it to be true.

_Lies! They have to be! _

He tried to tell himself, out of anger and denial mostly. He had to find her; this was just one big sick horrible joke. That's all it was! A joke!

He didn't even realize that he got off the bed despite the protests of the man called Jones. Whoever that was? He ignored him though, staggered out of the room, ignoring the pain that shot throughout his body. Ignoring the tears that streaked his face and soaked into the bandages that covered his cheeks. He wanted to scream her name, but couldn't. So he checked every room, moving too quickly for doctors to stop him. Leaving a trail of tipped over trays and chairs as he went. And the security guards that worked wherever he was were doing a horrible job in trying to stop him too.

So he kept running endlessly, panicked and looking for her. He had to find her! He needed to find her! She was his everything!

He didn't even realize where he was; he just kept running until he noticed the chill. He was in a freezer of some sorts except that there wasn't anything he could truly make out other then black bags. There was a lot of them.

He didn't even realize that he walked up to the one in front of and unzipping it. What he saw though, made him scream.

It was his beautiful Jeannie. Only her face was carved up, and her skin felt cold to his touch. Clinging to her he continued to scream, cry and beg it not to be so.

--

Doctor Jones stood watching the whole thing. He felt his old heart break; he didn't know what to do as he watched doctors and nurses trying to pull the screaming man away from his dead wife. Too many times he saw stories end like this here in Gothom, but this one squeezed his heart like no other.

He couldn't even hear the screaming anymore, everything went silent despite the chaotic scene in front of him. The scene of a young man screaming, fighting doctors off to stay with his dead love one and tearing at his own bandages like an animal.

Two hours, it took two hour to restrain the man and clean up the mess. Unfortunately the lithe and injured man proved to be stronger then he looked, but adrenaline did that.

A knock on the door disturbed him from his thoughts as he watched a young lady enter. She was a secretary working at the Mayors office. It was her he had to give the bad news too. The bad news that only two hours earlier a panicking and broken man snapped her twin brother's neck in his struggles to stay with his loved one.

As he told her, he had to watch her break down in tears. It only made his aching heart wrench even harder. He hated days like this, it reminded him why he shouldn't have come to Gothom in the first place.

Two hours later he learnt that charges will be filed and a doctor he met only once was coming to interview the patient. That Doctor was none other then Jonathan Crane from Arkham Asylum, Jones always got chills down his spin when talking with the doctor or even being in the same room as him. He wasn't too sure why, but something always seemed to be off with the young doctor.

Jones didn't even realize that he got up and left his office and headed towards the hospital room where the unfortunate soul was. A security guard simply to ensure that the man was safe and remained inside his room now guarded the door to the patient's room. They were going to be relieved as soon as two police officers came.

"I hope for your sake you're going to be okay…" Jones found himself whispering to the sleeping patient. Though the images of earlier still hot in his mind, he felt dread because of it. He just didn't know why yet. The man seemed to be a kind person, he wouldn't have minded having a few conversations with him if situations were better.

He was to engrossed in watching the slumbering man who was frowning in his sleep despite the drugs and sedatives in his system, that he didn't notice a young man standing at the door with two police officers.

"Doctor Jones, I presume."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Calmly Jonathan Crane looked on at the scene, the old doctor stood near the bed of the patient he was sent to speak with. To see if the man would have to be put into Arkham Asylum or remain here and eventually stand trial and possibly go to jail. It all depends though, on his opinion. That in itself gave him a sense of control, a sense of power over the man's fate. If he wasn't careful he would get swept away in the rapture of it all.

"Doctor Jones, I presume." He said clearly, he already knew who the man was. He just wanted to catch his attention so matters at hand could be tended to. His cold blue eyes scanned the sleeping man over once more before he fully entered the room without waiting for Jones to answer.

"Doctor Crane, how are you today?" Jones answered. Jonathan couldn't help but noticed that Jones voice had a faked calmness to it. It meant the man was stressed from what had occurred earlier, but that didn't surprise Jonathan. It was a normal reaction to the situation the old doctor just saw about four hours earlier. Underneath all that Jonathan noted that the man seemed weary of him. Good, Jonathan always liked setting others off edge. Even if it's slightly, it still pleased him to some extent.

"Quite fine, I would have been early if it wasn't for a patient. But I couldn't break myself away from him, I was making such good progress and if I left then it would mean I would have to start again." Jonathan said in a calm tone, knowing full well that it was a lie. The patient was left groveling in fear of shadows and Scarecrows when Jonathan first left; his first official test was successful. He now needed a sane man to see if he got the same successful results.

"Understandable, after all your job is to tend to your patients." Jones stated with a sigh that Jonathan picked up easily enough. And he couldn't help but smile slightly, not showing what that smile meant he calmly walked over to the other side of the man lying in the bed quietly.

"That it is. Tell me Doctor, what is your diagnosis." Jonathan asked calmly, and faintly listened to what the doctor had to say. It wasn't that important in his opinion, so he ended up turning his attention to the patient by picking up the clipboard at the end of the bed and looking it over.

"He has no name?" Jonathan pointed out as he looked up, expecting an answer.

"No. He had no identification when he and his wife came in." Jones answered quickly. Jonathan though wasn't impressed with the answer.

"Then may I ask, how come he has his blood type down? And the date of birth?" Jonathan asked, he didn't like being lied to. And he could tell that the foolish Doctor wasn't speaking the truth at this very moment.

"Yes, the uh, birth date is estimate. And blood type, we have a way that allows us to see what type of blood our patient has. All we needed was a sample of his blood." Jones explained calmly, it was simple for any doctor to do. Figure out someone's blood type.

Jonathan was satisfied so far with the answer, but he didn't like the fact that he was lied to once already. It didn't look good for the doctor.

"You said he was married?" Jonathan pressed, he felt smug. And for good reason, he knew he was backing the older doctor into a corner. And by doing that, Jonathan could flush the lie out in the open and find out who the man was. Not only that, it gave him control over the whole thing. And even more control over the man slumbering blissfully unaware of Jonathan's presence.

"Yes." Jones said, there was something about the younger doctor's eyes today that sent chills up his spin. Not like the other times, this time was different. He just didn't know how it was different this time. It just was.

"What is his last name?" Jonathan pressed further. All the while keeping the calm façade on, but the calm outlook was easy for the doctor. Especially in a situation like this, though he suspected that some of what's going on in his mind came through. If the increasing edginess seen in the old doctor standing across from him is any indication.

"I'm not sure." Jones answered quickly, the look deep within in Doctor Crane's eyes made him want to protect the slumbering man even more. He won't give the name, if it was the last thing he did!

"What is his wife's last name?" Jonathan asked with a mocking sigh, a mock show of irritation. Jonathan was having the time of his life, at the expense of another. But that didn't matter at the moment; he knew he would have to show more restraint later on. There was a conference he had to attend. So he might as well get it out now so he didn't have to worry about it later.

"I didn't check, he was my responsibility. Not his wife's body." Jones stated, he wanted this conversation to end. But it would appear that the doctor wouldn't let it end just yet. He was starting to think that the doctor was in a persistent and pushy mood, if not sadistic. Jones couldn't decipher which yet; he was too stressed with earlier situations and not to mention home life wasn't all that good either. His wife threatened to leave him; Gothom was too dangerous in her opinion. Jones started to think that she was right.

"Are you really that deficient, that you cannot possibly tell me their names?" Jonathan said flatly, this time he actually was serious. And it was very clear that he was insulting the entire hospital as well as the doctor in front of him. He truly was getting irritated. Dark mumbling in his mind tempted him to end it right now, with screams of fear as sweet as honey. But his self-restraint was stronger then that and he pushed that part of him further back. For now.

"It's not my fault that things have been too hectic around here lately. Files go missing, and I can't remember if I was told their names or not." Jones explained in haste. He caught the not so subtle insult, though he found he couldn't get too angry at the insult or have that good of a comeback to the insult. He was too edgy to be able to do so.

"I certainly hope you aren't lying to me. Doctor." Jonathan stated coldly. He really did want to end things now, and that mumbling soon became coherent whispers.

_**Shut him up Jonathan… **_

_**He's insulting our intelligence in the matter Jonathan…**_

_**We should silence him once and for all…**_

_**Test our newest creation out on him…**_

The older doctor, cutting off the whispers completely, once again caught Jonathan's attention.

"Was that a threat?" Jones hissed out in anger. He couldn't believe it! He was getting threatened in his own hospital of all places, and by a young arrogant doctor! Gothom truly was a place meant for cutthroat people! Jones couldn't respond more then what he has, his anger made his head throb. He couldn't believe how quickly he got angry, yet here he was.

"No." Jonathan stated calmly, allowing his calmness to control the room. After all, if he was calm then the other usually calms down as well. Though Jonathan had to fight off a smirk that threatened to show itself at what was hissed at him. It worked, he watched with smug confidence, as the man seemed to relax some. Albeit reluctantly, obviously.

Jones couldn't believe his eyes! He couldn't believe what he heard! The man wasn't threatening him!? But he was sure that it was a threat. So very sure. But the calmness the other was showing was infectious as he felt himself relax unwittingly as the anger slowly subsided to exhaustion. He fought hard to hide that exhaustion though it wasn't the time. He could be exhausted at home.

"He… Can't have any talks right now, I had to sedate him earlier from the outburst he had… And the injuries he caused himself, others. And the life he took." Jones stated, feeling that a change in conversation and pace would be very good. For the both of them.

"I understand that, Doctor. I am fully prepared to wait." Jonathan breathed calmly. Though the change in topic did nothing, and meant nothing. He will get the answers he needs; he'll just wait for John Doe to wake up in order to ask him the questions that needed to be asked. Looking down at the man he noted that the bandages were new. Most likely from the earlier outburst the doctor mentioned. Moving calmly he sat down in a chair, as uncomfortable as it was it was preferable at the moment.

Though Jonathan felt pleasure at the fact that he won't have to wait very long, the man's eyes were fluttering and he showing signs that he was waking up. Excellent!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Pain! Not physical, that was numbed by the morphine dripping into his veins for now. No this pain was the worst kind of them all, and it was his memories that caused them. Things were blurry, but that didn't last as long as it did last time. This time the world came at him quicker as he was able to focus; first person he focused on was the old doctor. The old doctor looked worried, he couldn't help but muse on why. But that didn't hold his attention for long. It was the man sitting in a chair on his right side, the man looked frail.

"Are you okay?" Jones asked as he checked the man's vitals, ignoring the fact that blue eyes were trained on him from across the room. What he didn't ignore was how cold the green eyes of his patient were now. They weren't that way before; he briefly caught them before the bad news was given. If anything he would have guessed that they could have been very warm eyes. He didn't get an answer; his patient was just watching him coldly.

"Are you done checking him over? I do have other appointments to tend to today. Unfortunately, I can't spend all my time here." Jonathan stated, he could tell right now that the man in the hospital bed didn't want to speak with the old doctor. Probably because it was the old doctor that informed him of the bad news. Impatience in the old doctor was running rampant in Jonathan's mind; he hated having to wait for the doctor to answer when a simple yes or no could have sufficed. But no, the doctor just looked at him and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. Ignoring him completely!

_The old doctor's going to disappear, I just know it. The up side is, I get to finally test out my Fear Inducing Toxin on someone sane. _

Jonathan thought as he stood up, pulling the chair with him so that it was closer to the bed, not waiting for the doctor to be finished Jonathan pulled out a clip board with blank lined paper for his notes. He'll transfer them to a proper file later.

"Don't be too long. He has to rest… I'll be in my office if you need my assistance. If not, there are nurses around. Ask them if you have to." Jones stated harshly as he walked out of the room without another word, wondering if he did the right thing by leaving his patient with that man alone. Inside his office he ended up leaning up against his closed door, resting his eyes and fighting off a migraine.

Jonathan didn't react to anything, just watching the doctor that annoyed him leave. With a sigh of relief he turned back to the man he was sent to talk with. Noticing that the man was watching him without much expression. But with the injuries he was told the man had. He didn't blame him; no one would make much expression with the pain they're feeling. Especially if that source of pain was in the area of one's face. He might as well get this over and done with.

"My name is Doctor Jonathan Crane. I'm here to help you." Jonathan introduced himself; he kind of hoped that the man would introduce himself in return. But he doubted that he would. And like he figured, nothing. So he continued,  
"Can you tell me your name?" Jonathan found that he was frustrated with how unresponsive the man was. It could be a symptom that he should take into balance, but one look into the man's eyes he knew that it wasn't so. The man was listening and paying attention.

_Jack… But how come I don't feel like Jack?_

Jack thought coldly, but he didn't say that. Instead he replied, "I d-don't remem-ber." His words were clipped simply because it hurt to move his mouth. He knew the expression he let flash through his eyes showed it.

Frowning inwardly Jonathan jotted that down before looking up at the man who was still watching him, he'll have to call him John Doe until he figures out his real name. If the man didn't know, like he said. If that was the case, he definitely will be coming with him to Arkham. Then he will have more time to delve into this man's mind and find out what's making it tick now. He always did love how the mind worked, finding everything about the subject fascinating.

"Then would I be able to call you John? Would that be fine?" Jonathan asked, feigned politeness. Though what he didn't expect was to get glared at, and that glare was darker then he expected it to be from a man who supposedly doesn't even remember his own name.

John Doe! John Doe, that was what the man meant when he called him John. That angered Jack to no ends, he wasn't some John Doe! So he glared, dangerously. And if looks could kill then the so-called doctor sitting near his bed would be dead ten times over.

"Th-That's _not_ my n-name." Jack hissed out despite the pain. And despite the fact that his voice wasn't very high, it was more like a whisper then anything, the massage must have been received loud and clear. The doctor looked startled, even for a second. It was enough for Jack.

It took only a second for Jonathan to recover from being startled, he didn't know until now someone could whisper and still be as threatening as John Doe just was.

"Then, what is your name?" Jonathan stated calmly, keeping eye contact. After the way John Doe reacted to him he wanted nothing more then to test his Fear Toxin on him, but with the GCPD officers waiting outside he knew he couldn't. Though what would it matter? Falcone pretty much owned the police department thanks to the dirty cops working there. But he doubted that both cops at the door were corrupt, especially the one with the last name as Gordon. The guy seemed too clean for his own good.

Jack just watched Jonathan for a moment; it was irritating that the man wasn't leaving that question alone and moving on. So he opted to look away from the man and ignore him. If co-operating to some extent just put him in a bad mood then why even bother? And Jeannie was gone, so why should he care?

_Jeannie…_

Jacks mind seemed to echo. He kept seeing her the way she was in the morgue. That didn't help his mood any; he blamed the haunting memories on sleep.

_I'm not going to sleep when I can help it…_

Jack concluded as he stared at the white wall without actually looking at it. He didn't know whom to blame for this. The cops who failed to protect them? The ones who did this to the both of them? Or all of Gothom for allowing crime and degenerate people to spread like a virus? He completely forgot about the doctor while he was musing.

"I can't call you anything other then John if you don't give me your name." Jonathan stated, while he watched John Doe stare at the wall. It could be almost be appropriately called the thousand yard stare. Looking but not seeing, and if that was the case then perhaps it would be a good idea for everyone, especially John Doe, to put him in Arkham. Not on the floor meant for criminals but still in Arkham. Opening his mouth to say something more when a bitter laugh came from John Doe.

Jack couldn't help it; he let out a bitter laugh. All he could think of right now was Jeannie; he didn't want to talk about his name anymore.

_She's gone! She's gone!_

Jack's mind screamed, he wasn't sure why he was reacting like this now. He was calm before now. But now he felt like screaming, he tried to ignore the pain. He really did. But her face in his mind made it impossible. His name made it impossible. All he wanted now was for Jack to die. He wanted to die. He wanted everyone involved with this to die. Feeling tears fogging his vision he gritted his teeth. He didn't want to cry! So he found another way to relieve his pain. Screaming. Opening his mouth wide as he did so, thrashing his head back and forth while gripping at his hair he kept screaming. And the pain in his cheeks told him he was pulling at the stitches by opening his mouth wide like that. He tasted blood, his blood!

Jonathan didn't know what happened, John Doe one minute was laughing bitterly and looked like he wanted to cry and now he was thrashing in his bed screaming bloody murder. Jonathan got out of the way for doctors and nurses to try to restrain John Doe down. All the while Jonathan's eyes trained on the white bandages now stained red. A part of him was pleased to watch the man break even further then he was before. But right now, he had to put a concerned front on so that he didn't look all that suspicious.

For Jack, everything went black as he felt a prick in his arm. They had no choice; he ripped the IV right out of his arm and knocking everything near him down onto the floor in his struggles.

Jonathan waited until everything calmed down; Doctor Jones was back and changing the bandages and repairing the stitches in the now worse off tears in John Doe's face. Smiling slightly Jonathan stated,

"I'll have the papers to have him transferred to Arkham for you to sign within the hour." He could see the defeated and hurt expression on the old doctor's face, that was the reason enough for his smile. He simply enjoyed seeing the man defeated, after all he didn't want John Doe to be transferred to Arkham in the first place.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jonathan Crane was pleased simply because he had one more person to try his Toxin on. And not to mention he wanted to see the aftermath of the man's obvious break down. Whether or not he was broken or not was yet to be seen. Right now John Doe was in the infirmary at Arkham, after strings were pulled slightly John Doe was transferred to Arkham. Sighing slightly he stood up calmly, the newspaper forgotten at the side of his desk. Apparently Bruce Wayne was dead.

Jonathan new better though, after all you aren't in league with Ra's Al Ghul and not know what's going on. Smirking arrogantly he stood up, he considered Bruce Wayne a naïve rich boy who thought he knew how the world worked. But Jonathan new better.

But none of that mattered now, right now he had to go strike more deals with Falcone and ensure that he was in fact on Falcone's payroll so that future plans are going to go ahead. What Falcone didn't know though, was that Jonathan would be turning the tables easily enough and soon enough. And Falcone will simply be another puppet in the grand scheme of things. And so is Ra's Al Ghul. Letting out another pleasant sigh he exited his office and headed to the infirmary, which thankfully was on the same floor.

It didn't take him long to get there, and no one bothered to look up and acknowledge his presence. But then again, why should they? This was how he preferred things, to be left be so he didn't always have to associate with them. He found himself standing next to John Doe's bed; the man was sleeping peacefully under the sedative he was given.

"Has he showed signs of waking up yet?" Jonathan asked as soon as the doctor who worked for him came close enough.

"No Doctor Crane. If anything he just showed signs of dreams, but other then that absolutely nothing." Doctor Morris answered as he unlocked a cabinet where he has the syringes and other medication.

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?" Jonathan pressed, he might as well do some information gathering while he is here. After all, he has to fill a file out for John Doe. Morris was a middle-aged man, younger then Jones Jonathan couldn't help but note to himself out of a rare whim.

"Well, to put it more accurately it's more like nightmares. He's calm now but earlier he was thrashing around and saying incoherent things that don't make sense." Morris answered; though it was obvious he was still puzzled about the things that he heard from the slumbering man. He was sure though that Doctor Crane would understand and perhaps even fill him in on a few things so he could at least have some understanding on what's going on in the young man's dreams. If he even wanted to know.

The whole idea of dreams and dreams being a link to someone's subconscious interested Jonathan to some extent. Though it was never really enough for him to do thorough research on the subject.

"Do you think you can piece together what he could have said?" Jonathan couldn't help but press; he was always this attentive to new patients. Though after they've been here for a while he tended to move on to other things or newer patients. Of course he always came back to the patients he previously showed interest in, but what good doctor doesn't?

"Something about death and himself. Those are two words that I could make out. Death. Himself. And if I heard correctly he also said the word forever. I'm sorry I can't tell you more then that." Morris explained as he locked the cabinet up for good measure, he couldn't afford allowing one of the inmates getting their hands on something they shouldn't.

"Quite alright. It's understandable when most of what he said is incoherent. Thank you Doctor Morris. Inform me when he wakes up, I would like to speak with him some more." Jonathan stated calmly. And a bit arrogantly, after all there was that feeling of being in power again.

"Okay." Morris answered with a quick nod as he went back to work, not really noticing or acknowledging Jonathan's absence from the room.

--

The first thing Jack saw when he opened his eyes was a light gray ceiling, unlike the white one in the hospital he was at. The bed felt different too, more like a mattress then the ones at the hospital. Looking around he saw a different doctor at a desk that wasn't in the hospital room he was at. It told him instantly that he was somewhere else. Scanning the room he noticed that there was more then one bed in this room and a door leading to another room with hospital like beds.

Creasing his eyebrows slightly as he scrutinized the place. His mouth still hurt, worse then what he remembered. He wasn't sure why at first, until he remembered his outburst at the hospital.

_Why did I do that? Where am I?_

Jack thought to himself as he tried to sit up, realizing that he was restrained down. He didn't like to be restrained at all! It meant someone else had power over him! And that was something that didn't sit well with Jack.

"You're awake. That's good, my name is Doctor Morris. How are you feeling?" He approached the bed and looked down at the restrained man, noting the frown that showed in the patient's eyes. Obviously from being restrained.

Jack didn't say anything; he just stared at the doctor. Letting him see that he wasn't too happy with being restrained. It just made him angry, and he always did have an anger problem. Never towards his beloved wife though, he refused to say her name anymore. Her name simply equaled pain. He didn't hear anything else from the doctor; apparently this one had brains and didn't keep trying to talk to him. He didn't want to talk, or even attempt it.

It hurt to talk, his cheeks felt like they were torn. Which they were, and stitched back together to keep his face in the resemblance of a face rather then someone with a mouth so wide that it could fit who knows what into it.

Watching as Morris held up a few fingers he frowned as he heard Morris as him,  
"How many fingers am I holding up."

Jack didn't reply, he simply looked away. Glaring at the wall, blaming it for everything at the moment. He wanted the annoying man to go away, and leave him to his misery.

"John? Can you understand me? How many fingers am I holding up?" Morris repeated calmly, though Jack could only glare as an answer as he watched the irritating man hold up three fingers.

_Leave me alone! Leave ME alone!_

The doctor must have gotten the message due to the fact that he left his bedside and went to the phone. He could hear him talking to another doctor. Crane was the name he heard.

_Great… No one's going to leave me alone today…_

Jack thought bitterly as he waited now for the unavoidable. Another conversation with the doctor that started the whole 'John Doe' thing.

--

Jonathan Crane just got off the phone and couldn't help but feel some sort of amusement at the fact that the newest patient has woken up finally. Standing up calmly he straightened out his suite out of habit before walking calmly towards the infirmary. Nodding at doctors as he passed them, keeping up a civilized image of a proper doctor who tends to his patients with the best of intentions. Even though most of the doctors here were either borderline corrupt or completely corrupt.

It didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was his research into people's fears and the human mind. It didn't take him long to get there, and when he did he watched as John Doe glared dangerously at the doctor's back. Obviously Doctor Morris tried the how many fingers do you see thing when the patient first wakes up.

_I have to have a chat with him on that, it doesn't work so well. It only succeeds in angering the patient. _

Jonathan thought as he made sure to clear his throat to catch the attention of the only two in the infirmary at the moment. John Doe and Doctor Morris. He noted that John Doe was watching him coldly with an emotionless expression on his bandaged face.

"How are you doing today?" Jonathan asked as he pulled a chair next to the bed that was occupied by John Doe, he has yet to figure out the man's name. It was obvious that his question only served to annoy the man who let out a slight huffing noise before ignoring him completely. It took everything in Jonathan's power to remain calm at that, he didn't like to be ignored, and by a patient of all things. After all, the patient wasn't the one in control of things.

He was!

"I assume you understand why you are here?" Jonathan stated before continuing his explanation without waiting for an answer, "You are here because you murdered someone, and the stress levels and your latest break down has doctors concerned for your safety and other's safety. So until further notice you are to be under my care in Arkham's Asylum until you get well enough to be rehabilitated into society."

"L-like I care…" Was the only vocalized response Jonathan got in the form of a whisper from a broken man.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jack didn't care, or at least that's what he told the frail looking doctor Crane. He did care, only because of the part of himself that was jaded and moral drowned by society. He cared because he was going to be stuck here, with doctors who are odd and doctors who are obsessed with asking you how many fingers do you see. He cared because it meant he would no longer be free.

_But I won't ever be free… I feel so lost without her… So trapped and dead without my dearest. _

Jack thought solemnly as he let his eyes travel towards the location of the doctor. Studying the man in front of him, ignoring the Morris guy who stood back doing his own work and filling out useless paperwork. He watched as the man in front of him seemed to cage something inside of him, that made him curious on what was being hidden for a moment. But in truth, he didn't care about that right now. He only noticed because he was always told he had an observant eye, at least that's what _she_ told him.

"I believe you care." Jonathan stated, he watched the man study him for a moment, he knew his words would catch John Doe's attention well enough to interact enough for Jonathan to gather information for the file that was being built on this man.

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly while he couldn't help but think one thing.

_Bastard._

"Why would I care its just another living arrangements that I don't have to pay for." Jack stated with a slight huff, he was still whispering due to his throat being sore from screaming and his cheeks being in pain. He didn't like pain all that much so he would avoid causing himself any more pain.

A sigh that's what he heard from the doctor, but nothing more as the doctor got up and walked over to the Morris guy and whispered something about some sort of medication. Jack wasn't too sure what medication, but all he heard was something about evening out his moods to make him more co-operative. Letting out a bitter quiet humorless laugh Jack couldn't help but think,

_That's the answer to everything. Oh Jack you're tired just take some sleeping pills. Oh Jack you're too anxious, take some pills for anxiety. Pills! Pills! Pills! They will fix anything. Nothing! _

"I don't want medication… Any of it… You want my name or something… Is that why you're wanting to give me more of your medication…" Jack hissed quietly while watching Frail Crane regard him for a moment before coming back over and sitting. For a second Jack swore the man looked smug. But Jack didn't care.

"Well, what is your name?" Jonathan asked, trying so hard not to seem smug. He figured one of his ploys would work. They always do, and this man was predictable down to the T.

Hesitation before Jack answered with a begrudging sigh, "Jack." He cursed inwardly at the fact that Frail Crane outsmarted him and was able to get his name from him.

_All because I didn't want pills! I allowed myself to become predictable!_

Jack inwardly cursed. He didn't like the fact that he, with his IQ, was outsmarted by a nobody, but it couldn't be helped now. He was drugged on morphine and his attention span blurred by the pain both emotional and physical. He didn't want this pain.

"Well, Jack. Do you have a last name?" Jonathan asked calmly, he knew that 'Jack' didn't like the fact that he was outsmarted, he could tell by the irritation floating in the other's green eyes.

"It doesn't matter… Not anymore." Jack answered cryptically. It was the truth; he had no reason to lie. It didn't matter, his life. His dreams. His plans! Where all gone, all thanks to the no good degenerate vermin of Gothom. It was all gone.

"And why doesn't it matter, Jack." Jonathan asked calmly, his folder open and a name written in the blank spot.

"Because… It doesn't." Jack stated with a tone that clearly states 'duh'. Though his voice was still in a whisper, it would be until he was healed. Whenever that will be, Jack could almost swear that he'll never heal.

Jonathan couldn't help but sigh and frown inwardly at the tone of voice 'Jack' was using. But brushing it off he was about to ask another question when he was paged by another doctor to tend to an unruly inmate.

"Jack. I have to go, we will speak later." Jonathan stated as he stood up and briskly walked out of the room, his mindset on tending to the unruly inmate at the current moment. Leaving Jack alone with his thoughts and a doctor who was finishing up his paperwork.

Being alone again, more or less Jack decided to simply think to himself. Though whenever he started to think it was always about her. How she looked. How she smelt. Her smile. Her everything.

_She always did say I had a great smile… Nothing compared to hers though…_

Jack thought solemnly. He missed her. He didn't want to miss her, but he did.

"I want to sit up… And… A mirror… I want a mirror." Jack muttered, it was loud enough to catch Morris's attention as he came over and asked for Jack to repeat what he said. Jack did, though it had a irritated bite to it. It was enough to get the doctor to comply.

Once satisfied with the fact that the bed was moved so that it was positioned upwards enough for him to be seated rather then laying down. The wonders of an uncomfortable hospital bed.

"Mirror…" Jack stated indicating that he wanted it. Sighing the doctor complied cautiously, most likely afraid that he'll hurt himself Jack concluded as he felt the restraints being removed from one wrist. Enough for him to get a good look in the mirror.

Looking into the mirror only to see the image of a broken man with cold green eyes and dirty blond hair stare back at him. He ignored the fact that the area around his bandaged cheeks was red, most likely from his earlier breakdown. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't showing much of any emotion. Setting the mirror down he reached up and without warning ripped bandages off of the right side of his face. Looking back in the mirror he saw the wound on his right side. He couldn't help but stare at it. It pulled his mouth on the right side up slightly into what would seem to be a smile.

_She always did like it when I smiled…_

Jack thought as he set the mirror down again and just as the doctor realized what he done with the bandages on his right side. Jack didn't do anything; he just let the man fix the bandages back onto his face before turning his attention away. Today was his first day in the place he already doesn't like.

Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

He wasn't a criminal. And he above all else, he wasn't insane.

The future was something Jack had decided on, he wanted retribution! But he had to find out if he was going to go through with his vendetta against the people of Gothom and Gothom itself for what they did to him. To her. But one thing made it difficult. Himself. He had to die, his old self. His old planning self.

Jack Napier had to die and become something more, something that wasn't in the norm. Something that couldn't be categorized controlled or destroyed.

He had to become a symbol.

Something chaotic like that. After all, symbols no matter what they were. Nature, animals or even people in the noticeable occasions both good and bad. All of them where chaotic and unforgettable.

What he had to become was an agent of that chaos…


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Finally out of the infirmary Jack stood in the room he was now calling home. There was a small window pointing out to Gothom's most populated area. Jack leaned his forehead against the cold bars between him and the window. It was leaking slightly from the rain beating against it. Without any emotion he just stared at the city; Emotions running rampant in his stomach and with the fact that it was nearly empty wasn't helping. He didn't eat solid food due to his cheeks. That didn't matter though; he never truly ate for the sake of eating. He only did so to survive.

Behind him his roommate sat on the bed muttering about something unimportant. Jack didn't care what he was saying, Jack was busy killing himself slowly. Letting himself drown in his hatred for the city he was now staring at.

He had his first therapy session today, a young doctor; they ended up talking about things. The doctor tried telling him that there were good people out there. He just told him that it was false. There wasn't anyone good out there.

_After all… The only good person was her… And she's dead. _

Jack thought as he turned his attention to the door as he heard it unlock. He recognized the person immediately. Frail Crane. Frowning he watched as an orderly came and took the muttering man from the room. Quirking his eyebrows slightly in detached curiosity as Crane seemed to smile slightly as he moved out of the way so the man could be lead down a hallway. Jack didn't care though, so he turned his attention back to Gothom and gripped the bars tightly. Ignoring the pain it caused from the pressure he was putting in his grip.

He heard sirens off in the distance, but didn't bother looking for them. He was used to hearing them constantly, not so much in the Narrows though.

--

Jonathan Crane followed after the orderly who was leading a young man down the hallway. Unfortunately it wasn't for testing his newest concoction but an actual therapy session with them man. And plus he was more interested to see what 'Jack' was afraid of. He still has to find out what the last name was. The old doctor is pretty good at hiding his tracks.

_Does that man have a grudge against us? To protect a nobody. _

Jonathan couldn't help but think to himself and a silent companion only he knew about. He put in a formal complaint earlier about the man's hiding the identity of 'Jack' on him. And hopefully the authorities can prove to be capable of flushing the last name out. He wondered why the old doctor was so determined to protect someone he didn't even know. But he knew the answer in the back of his mind as it was whispered to him.

_**He doesn't trust us… He feels that we are a threat to the man. So like any good decent person. He'll protect that man. **_

All in all, it doesn't matter at this point. He had other things to worry about instead of an old delusional doctor. With that thought solved he entered the room where his patient was sitting at the table and sat across from him.

"Hello Andrew. How are you today?" Jonathan asked with a perfectly faked smile that projected kindness and sincerity.

--

Jack turned his attention finally from the window, he felt suffocated by the anger he was feeling. Sitting down on his he crossed his arms and winced as his chest hurt from the bruises underneath and the wounds that were stitched up across his torso; other wounds that he got when he got the wounds in his cheeks. He couldn't help but think,

_I need a new name. That would put me on the right path when it comes to becoming a new person. _

"But what?" He muttered quietly as he scanned the dull room he was in. Scanning the ground he was aware of the deck of cards the man was allowed to have with him. After all who can hurt themselves with playing cards that were cheap and more flexible then the more expensive brands? Moving fluidly he pulled them out from under the bed and looked over them slightly. Without hesitation he pulled them out of the worn out package they were in. The top card was a king of spades. Under it was a queen of hearts. He kept going until he came across the ace of diamonds. Tracing his finger over it for a bit and muttered to himself,  
"In the card game war, it's always good to have an ace in your part of the deck. It makes it easier to win the game with it…"

He kept going through the deck. Tossing the ones he didn't want any more to the ground, not caring if they landed face up or down. The last two cards in the deck were his favorite cards. He never truly knew why they were his favorite. But they were, and not to mention they were wild cards in many games played today.

That was when it struck him like a moving locomotive. What better then to take a name of a card to further push his symbol as an agent of chaos, by giving him the name of a wild card., one that can trump the ace in any game from his perspective.

"Joker." Jack muttered, he didn't realize that he just sat there staring at the colored version of a smiling joker card until he heard his roommate shriek,

"Those are mine! You can't touch them!"

Jack turned his attention to the door, startled as he saw the man being restrained by the orderly in charge with transporting him back to the room. He stood up in alarm at the struggle happening outside his door. He wondered what he should do, if he should do anything at all. His eyes fell to the cards he was holding in his hands, joker cards. Putting them into is pockets he bent down and without thinking picked up the cards and dropped them on the roommate's bed. The orderly reluctantly let the man go; he was known here and probably didn't know that you should have put the man in solitary confinement for his outburst. Jack watched as the man scurried over to his cards talking fast on how come he shouldn't have touched the cards.

He didn't pay attention until the man said directly at him, "I want my joker cards back… back, they're mine you have to give them back. It's not nice to steal."

"I gave you your cards back. Joker cards are mine." Jack replied, as calmly as he could. He now considered them to be his; after all it was going to be his new name. So why not have cards to represent his name?

_**Authoress Note:** Beta'ed by CriggleChi XD_


End file.
